


come and lay the roses on the floor

by chrysalizzm



Category: Shaman King (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Polyamory, Self-Discovery, lapslock, manta’s a disaster bi, manta’s dad is mentioned briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 22:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19036882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrysalizzm/pseuds/chrysalizzm
Summary: in which yoh is a distinguished flirt, manta suffers from acute confusion, and anna lays no claim to her fiancé.





	come and lay the roses on the floor

**Author's Note:**

> title credit to halsey, yungblud, and travis barker’s “11 minutes”
> 
> shaman king is an older favorite of mine that i recently revisited and i’d forgotten how much i loved yoh but i remember again. a valid neutral good with disaster friends. highly relatable. it also struck me how good the chemistry (not just romantic) between yoh and all the other characters was and i had to write this, so,,,, enjoy

“ - and that’s how i ended up on an abandoned island for _three days_ with my father.” manta tousles his hair with his hands, trying to imbue as much frustration into the movement as he can. “ugh, it was easily one of the worst experiences i’ve ever had.”

yoh, cradling his hand in his cheek, laughs, warm and kind. “you’re cute, manta.”

manta immediately whips his head around in alarm, making sure anna isn’t anywhere nearby. when he catches no glimpse of the brick-red headscarf or the sheen of long golden hair, he relaxes and smiles shyly at yoh, who beams wider.

to be honest, manta isn’t sure when it started. they were only alone together for a short while, after all - maybe three weeks, at most. even so, within a few days, yoh started to act strangely toward manta.

“that was really funny, manta!”, or “you look good, manta”, or “hey, manta. i like you a lot.”

okay, yoh was flirting. it’s obvious. even manta can tell that much. 

it made him feel plenty of ways. first up to bat was confusion ( _is he just bro-ing me? is he flirting? i’m a boy too though?? is he secretly a girl?? i’m getting mixed signals????_ ) as he tried to decipher what exactly was going through yoh’s mind when he smiled that honey-slow smile of his and showered manta with compliments that were too sincerely delivered. next came nervousness - even though their part of town is pretty open and friendly when it comes to non-heterosexuality, manta’s heard horror stories from other students who were on dates in other areas of tokyo and got chased away, and manta’s never even thought of himself being anything other than a one-hundred-percent homegrown heterosexual. further along that line was - well, he was flattered. he’s still flattered now. attention is something he’s constantly wanted for. his father is always busy, his mother’s barely in the picture, and even though he studies like no tomorrow, it seems like there’s always someone lying in wait at the precipice that can show him up with half the effort.

back when he wasn’t so wrapped up in his company that he could still pay attention to his little son, his father said conspiratorially, “listen, son. you and i, we’re not like your mama. we have to fight tooth and nail to get someplace in this world, and if we take even the smallest break, someone better is going to come along and steal our place. there’s always going to be someone better - so you have to do better than them. you get me?”

manta thinks that that’s the only useful advice his father’s ever given to him. 

still, when yoh made it clear that he had more than a passing interest in manta in a romantic way, manta got those cliché butterflies-in-his-stomach feeling that he always thought were overly played up in young-adult novels but apparently aren’t. he could think of yoh that way without any trouble, and yoh was so casual about it that manta didn’t feel pressured to see yoh as a potential boyfriend.

they never really labeled what they have, but manta gives himself the luxury of thinking of yoh as a boyfriend.

which is why the appearance of anna is such a shock, and her bland statement that she’s yoh’s fiancée is an even bigger one. bitterness doesn’t even begin to describe the level of betrayal that he felt looking at her.

but there’s still a burst of hope when yoh doesn’t look all that enthused to see anna. he even winks at manta when anna’s back is turned, and the pleasant warmth of the flush on manta’s face belies the turn of his stomach ( _they’re engaged, i’m basically a homewrecker now_ ).

he tries not to pay attention on the days when anna is a little kinder, and yoh is a little realer, and they press their shoulders together, two shamans in a wide world, looking like they were born to belong together.

before anna, though, manta’s main concern was amidamaru, who serves secondarily as yoh’s bodyguard (primarily, more an older brother); after all, the samurai was born in an era when homosexuality was considered a disgusting spectacle. 

back when yoh was in the hospital, his entire left side bandaged copiously, manta had blurted out “what do you think about us?” to amidamaru, who looked rather surprised. then, while manta had despaired and called himself all kinds of stupid in his head, amidamaru smiled a little sadly and said, “well, manta-dono, you and yoh-dono remind me of myself and mosuke.”

in hindsight, manta should have recognized it.

yoh has turned to stare down the twining river, eyes soft, and a surge of gratitude, of admiration, of bravery tingles down manta’s spine. the sudden courage pushes him into stumbling forward and reaching for yoh’s arm, dangling limply at his side. tangling their fingers together. yoh’s little startle, his dark eyes on their joined hands, his small smile like burgeoning flowers on his somehow wan face.

manta’s own grin falters. “yoh - ?”

“there you guys are.”

manta barely avoids tumbling over the railing on the bridge as he yanks his hand away and whips around to see anna, her arms folded, tapping one foot. “slacking off again, i see, yoh.”

yoh gives her a lazy little wave. “hi, anna.”

manta can hear his death knell ringing in his ears. anna saw. anna _saw_. he’s going to die a slow painful death, and then she’ll summon his spirit again to boot him into the next world herself.

anna’s eyes narrow. “yoh.”

yoh tilts his head back, leaning against the railing, his hum quiet. “mm-hmm.”

anna’s gaze shifts to manta, who is wiping his sweaty palms on his pants to hide how much they’re shaking. he doesn’t catch the brief exchange of looks between the two shamans. doesn’t catch anna nod back toward the way she came from, lips thin; doesn’t catch yoh’s silent little sigh like one last weak breath escaping a balloon; doesn’t catch yoh’s shuffling footsteps as he meanders away, his hands tucked loosely in his pockets, a second shadow cloaking his shoulders. 

he jolts violently when anna takes yoh’s place on the railing, eyes slanted toward him. there’s a painfully awkward silence during which manta struggles to find the right words to say.

“it’s not what you think,” he finally manages weakly. anna raises a very unimpressed eyebrow. 

“oh?” she drawls, and manta cringes as far away from her as he can without appearing rude. “what was i witnessing, then? i only saw two good friends holding hands…”

manta’s not imagining the cutting edge to her voice when she adds lowly, “although i now see that i misjudged the depth of your feelings.”

she steps closer to him, gets right in his personal bubble, and he’s so frightened he can’t move a muscle, like a deer caught in the headlights, or like prey in the direct line of sight of a predator. there is a lioness in anna’s body as she tilts her head and her golden mane spills over her shoulder, the sardonic twist of her mouth, the tense of her muscles as she flexes her fingers around her scarf. there’s sweat running down manta’s back and he swears he’s about to faint, he’s so lightheaded. maybe if he wills himself to drop dead, anna won’t be able to carry out as harsh a punishment as she might were he alive and at her mercies…?

the pressure suddenly abates, and anna leans back. manta, confused, lowers his arms from their protective stance in front of his face. 

“hm. but not a word to defend yourself.” is that… _amusement_ in anna’s voice - ?

“you know,” says anna matter-of-factly and with a hint of mirth, “i don’t own yoh.”

manta can feel all the blood rushing to his head, its thundering in his ears, for what feels like the hundredth time today. the family physician is going to have a conniption when she sees his blood pressure. “w-w-what?”

anna cracks her knuckles daintily, not the haphazard half-aware way yoh does: one finger by one, loosening each socket then popping it with a clinical, practiced hand. “what i mean is, yoh has a right to like other people.” her brows furrow thoughtfully. “romantically.”

manta can’t believe his own hearing. he might be hallucinating, he’s not really sure. or maybe he did pass out and is now in the midst of a fever dream. “i’m sorry, wh - beg your pardon?”

there’s now a distinct undercurrent of annoyance in anna’s tone when she sighs, “oh, for heaven’s sake, manta, don’t be obtuse. yoh’s a fourteen-year-old shaman, he’s had plenty of time for introspection. he’s polyamorous.”

“oh,” says manta. then anna’s roundabout explanation really sinks in and he exclaims “oh!!” in what’s half excitement and half amazement. hundreds of new questions make a grand entrance in his brain ( _so he does like me? and he also likes you maybe? what does that mean for us? how did he figure that out?_ ) but abruptly, shyness brings his hands to his mouth as he tries to organize the disaster into some semblance of order. 

anna observes him while he files away the thoughts, and half-smiles when he’s less scarlet. “he and i have already talked things out,” she elaborates. “how things would work for us, since our families engaged us. i’m not poly, and i’m straight, so i’ll devote myself to him and his cause, but i’m also not stupid enough to think i’m the only one that will always have his attention.” the half-smile widens slightly into what could be a grin if it didn’t look like it would be at home on a shark’s face. “so i suppose you were his first pick.”

manta squeaks. “i’m sorry?” he offers in a high-pitched tone. 

anna softens, and the carnivorous edge melts off her lips. “you don’t have to be,” she murmurs contritely. “i’m fumbling my way through yoh’s affections just as much as you are, i’ve just had longer to think it out. it’ll be perfectly fine, manta, just you watch. yoh’s will can break the laws of the universe.” her eyes darken, and manta can feel an echo of aching hurt. “he’ll shred himself into pieces for you. never take that for granted. promise me.”

manta thinks of yoh. yoh’s arms folded behind his head as he smiles peacefully into the desperately blue sky, yoh’s long long eyelashes that brush his cheekbones as he flutters between slumber and awareness during classes, yoh’s gentle love for life and for the entire world and the mundanities and the big picture. yoh, yoh, yoh. 

“i promise.”

the terseness in anna’s frame dissipates like mist at that, and the ease in her posture is one manta’s never seen before; he thinks, however, that he understands when she offers a heartfelt “thank you” before setting off away toward her house. 

manta just watches her retreating back for a while. lioness anna who gave him the shovel talk about her own powerful and fragile fiancé, who looked about ready to murder if he said the wrong thing. for the first time, there is no sting when he thinks of her; instead he muses that they might be able to get along, if only for yoh’s sake. 

“manta!” crows an endearingly familiar voice. manta’s already breaking into a smile by the time he’s fully turned around. 

yoh, limned by the blazing gold and vermillion and bronze of the late-summer sunset, is waving both arms vigorously. beside him, amidamaru is also waving, long-suffering but pleased. “manta! let’s go eat dinner together!”

manta over the water, yoh in the sun, adoration in the muggy heat. manta can’t breathe. 

“manta - ”

“i’m coming,” he hollers back, stuffs his neglected books into his backpack, and takes off running towards the fading sun.


End file.
